


The Luckless Adventures of Creek

by PennyPages



Category: Trolls (2016)
Genre: F/M, Karma's a bitch, Manipulation, creek's a liar, creek's a slimeball, faded trolls, grey trolls
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-03
Updated: 2017-09-06
Packaged: 2018-12-23 13:26:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11990742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PennyPages/pseuds/PennyPages
Summary: Told from Creek's perspective starting from when he pleads for his life with King Gristle and Chef. Creek manages to escape from the hill monster, but his luck runs out there as he falls into one unhappy adventure after the other.





	1. Off Screen

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: If you enjoy stories where Creek is redeemable or sees the error of his ways, this story is not for you.
> 
> Notice: Trolls and the characters of Chef, Gristle, Poppy, Branch and Creek are copyrighted by Dreamworks. This story is a non-commercial work covered by the Fair Use Doctrine. All song lyrics are folk songs within the public domain unless otherwise noted.

"Please, I'll do anything!" Creek begged from his knees on King Gristle's hand, who looked at him flabbergasted. Above him loomed Chef. Upon hearing Creek's plea, her mouth broke out into a wide toothy grin, but only for an instant before composing her face into that of a faithful servant.

"Anything? You'd rather we eat all the other troll as long as we don't eat you? That would be enough trolls to feed every bergen in town," she said aloud.

King Gristle's mouth hung open for an instant, then he squinted his eyes and seemed to think, "If I don't eat this one troll now, I can maybe use him to get enough trolls to feed everyone for Trollstice. Then everyone will be happy!" 

"What a wonderful idea your, Majesty," Chef smiled.

Gristle looked down at Creek, "Can you lead us to the other trolls? And I won't eat you if you do."

Creek hesitated. He was not yet sure if he should trust the moment of enlightenment he had while in the King's mouth; that he wanted to live at any cost. He also knew the trolls were unlikely to have stayed in the village, but he did not know where they would have gone. The forest was big and trolls could move fast. If he promised to lead the bergens to the village and failed, who knew what they would do. Then again, what did he have to lose. He swallowed, "Probably. But I need some time to meditate on this."

"Meditate! What an ungrateful troll," Chef snapped "Trollstice is tomorrow. We don't have time for games."

King Gristle looked tepidly at Chef and said in a small voice, "Maybe, I can, just, keep him for a bit?"

"Another excellent idea your Majesty!" and Chef snatched Creek up with one hand while unfastening Gristle's cloak clasp with her other. "Meditate in here you little brat!" and she threw Creek in.

Creek's body slammed against metal. He gasped as the wind knocked out of his lungs. The door banged shut and total darkness enveloped him. The clasp's interior wasn't big enough to accommodate his body, crunching him in a fetal position. A few seconds later the, the whole thing began to rock with the rhythm of Gristle's stubby movement. The sticky smell of taco seasoning and hot sauce flooded his nostrils. Creek suppressed the urge to vomit. He closed his eyes and tried to meditate.

Hours passed. The air in the clasp grew hotter and more stifling. Creek focused his mind. He would survive this. There were other troll villages. The bergens only knew about this one. And even without his help, they would find it eventually. They wouldn't stop looking now that they had found them once. Just like when he was a child, they would take trolls each year. Families ripped apart.  Every parent afraid to have a child. Trolls fading and dying from broken hearts. But if he led the bergens to them, the greedy bastards would eat them all in one go. The suffering would end. And he, Creek, could escape during the commotion. Find a new troll village. Somewhere they didn't know him. And a troll village deserved someone like him; eternally happy, skilled in the arts of mindfulness and meditation. He could do so much. And he could handle the guilt. No one else could. Any other troll would fade. But he still didn't know how to lead the bergens to them.

A bright light interrupted his thoughts. The clasp was opening! He gulped in fresh air as a sweaty hand lifted him up in the air. Where was he? Greasy smells, dark, ugly lighting. Gristle was saying something about "saving this little guy" and Creek found himself looking at a female bergen with glittering rainbow hair. Bergens didn't have hair like that. Was that Poppy peeking through? And Branch?

"Help me" he squeaked before being flung back into the clasp. He had to find out what was going on. It would be like Poppy to try and save her friends. Also like her to somehow ally with a bergen. Probably part of some scatter-brained idea to rescue the captured trolls. But Branch? He wouldn't even go to a party, let alone get near his greatest fear. But if they were here, he could use them.

He listened. King Gristle appeared to be on a date with the female bergen. A few minutes later, he was giving someone a shoe size. Then, disco music and clacking. Air streamed through the small seams of the broach. This must be a skating rink. The music almost drowned all other sounds out. He listened harder and heard faint screaming. Likely the bergens' puny ears couldn't hear it over the music, but he recognized it. Troll voices. He had no idea why they were yelling, but he knew it was them.

He waited until the date was over, then he began pounding against the door. "King Gristle! Let me out! I can help! I can help!"

The door opened and Gristle lifted him out.

"So you'll help us find the trolls?" he said with a huge grin.

Creek took a moment to dust himself off, "Yes."

"That's awesome! Oh Lady Glitter Sparkles is going to be so happy when she eats a troll. And so impressed at what a fantastic king I am! So? Where are they?"

Creek paused. King Gristle could not know his date was fake. The temperamental man-child would probably eat him in a rage.  "I don't think Your Majesty needs to worry about the details. Just take me to Chef, and I'll make sure you have enough trolls for every bergen in Bergen Town."

Moments later, Creek was standing in front of Chef and explaining his suspicion that there were rescue trolls in town, one of whom was the princess and would know where the village was hiding. He changed the details about *where* exactly he saw them. He didn't want to entertain questions about why trolls would be acting as the wig for a bergen. Chef smiled as he talked.

"So, all I need from you is to capture the pink troll, give me a few minutes with her, and I can find out the location of the trolls. I saw her when Gristle took me out momentarily to show to the guards. She was sneaking into the castle. Maybe trying to rescue me. You can probably find her easily."

"Consider it done" Chef responded and placed Creek in her fanny pack. Creek laid down. It was still hot and stuffy, but miles better from the broach.

Chef kept her word. She captured Poppy and brought him to her. Taking her cowbell was also easy. She didn't take it very well. Although Branch was there. His negative energy was probably rubbing off on her. A pity. She had been so sweet. Although he always thought Poppy and Branch had a thing for each other. How she kept personally inviting him to everything despite his refusals. How Branch seemed to almost smile when she coerced him into a hug. How Poppy always looked at Branch in a way that she never did to him, even though he was clearly a better troll. He hoped she could find peace before Trollstice. Once he had the bell, leading Chef to the trolls was easy.

For now though, Creek was back in the fanny pack. He'd found some lint and was experimenting with using it to block out the screams during Trollstice.

He was enjoying silent meditation, when he was hurled against the bottom of the pack. What the hell? He clawed the zipper open, climbed his way up out of the pack, and screamed. Chef was hurtling down a hill in a pot on fire. He held on tight, the wind threatening to knock him loose. As they entered Bergenville's townsquare, Chef hit her head on a passing signpost and passed out. The pot kept rolling, far out into the forest. Eventually, the fire went out and they came to a rest on a hill. Creek breathed a sigh of relief only for Chef to wake up, grab him and bring him toward her mouth.

 "Wait, wait!" Creek pleaded.

 Then Chef began falling away from him. She lost her grip and Creek found himself in the air looking down the mouth of a hill monster. He screamed again and fell. The monster closed its mouth around both of them. A vat of glowing acid grew bigger as Creek approached it. Chef hit it first. She sank, sputtering for breath as the acid dissolved her. Soon, all but her hand was visible, still outreached for him, for happiness.

Creek would not die this way. He whipped his hair out, looped it around a wart on the monster's throat, and pulled himself up. A huge tongue lashed out toward him as he grabbed onto another wart on the other side and swung up. He continued to swing back and forth, dodging the tongue the whole way. At the top, he used a piece of hair to tickle the monster's throat. Its huge laughter filled the space, and Creek slung his hair up out through the open mouth, grabbed hold of a plant on the surface, and pulled himself to safety. Once up top, he ran. He had no idea what had happened in Bergenville that put Chef in that pot, but he wasn't going to find out. If Chef was out of favor, then he had no allies in town, troll or bergen. No matter, he could find his own way.

And so he went out to live in a new land, east of the Troll Village.


	2. A New Village

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Creek has been trekking for months, and finally meets another troll.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Musical lyrics are from "On Top of Old Smokey" - a public domain folk song.

Creek had been walking for four months. He'd originally thought he'd have to walk for at least a year before finding another village, but early this morning he'd spotted a stray troll hair caught in a berry bush. Trolls rarely foraged more than a day away from their towns, so unless the hair was from another drifter, he should be close. He decided to set up camp near the bush and hope the foragers returned to it the next day.

Sure enough, the next morning Creek was awakened by a raspy voice singing a heartbreaking song.

_On top of old smokey all covered with snow_

_I lost my true lover for courting too slow_

_For courting's a pleasure and parting's a grief_

_And a false hearted lover is worse than a thief_

_For a thief will just rob you and take all you save_

_But a false hearted lover will lead you to the grave._

Creek peeked out from under his leaf to see an older troll picking berries with his hair and hands, and tossing them into a basket. What kind of troll sung depressing songs? At the rate the troll was going, he would have the bush cleared in a few minutes. Creek tossed aside the blanket and sprung to his feet. 

"Hey!"

At the sound of Creek's voice, the troll turned around. He had deep red skin and deep purple hair, but no glitter on his cheeks; a slightly faded troll, then. Creek hoped the entire village wasn't faded. A village of Branches would be insufferable. Although he could probably help them to brighten up.

"Howdy, friend. Don't think we've met before. Where'd you come from? There aren't any other troll villages around these parts for mile."

"My village was eaten by bergens. I barely managed to escape. I've been traveling for months."

"Bergens, you say? You are one lucky son to even be alive. Your whole village? Wow" the red troll paused. "There's not a chance these bergen followed you, though?"

"No. It was horrible. They raided our village. Put us all in a pot, and were just scooping us out, and stuffing their mouths," Creek shivered, "and when they grabbed me, just by luck I slipped out of their grasp and fell on the floor. No one saw me. And, I just ran. I can still hear their screams." Creek sucked in his breath and held his hand to his face.

"Hey, sorry. I didn't mean to make you relive that. Name's Bough, by the way, but everyone calls me Bo. Look, come back to my village with me, at least for now."

"Alright. I'm Creek. Nice to meet you, Bo. And thank you, brother. You are a kind soul."

Creek helped Bo carry his berries back to the village, which turned out to be set in a pine tree clearing. Mushroom homes lined a small stream which wound its way through the center. Deep green and orange pod homes resembling pine cones hung from the branches. Soft pine needles covered the ground. Not too many trolls were out, but of the ones that were, to Creek's relief, sported vibrant colors and glittery cheeks. Bo talked the whole time. Pointing out the different parts of the village and shouting hello's to any trolls they saw. Eventually, they got up to the largest pine. Bo ushered Creek onto a small wooden platform, pulled on a lever, and they began to rise.

"I'm taking you to our Queen," Bo said. "You'll like her. Everyone likes her. She'll know what to do."

The elevator came to a stop near the top of the pine tree on a broad branch at the end of which was a large, silver pod. Spindly patio furniture sat out front. In one of the chairs, sat a beautiful troll with coloring resembling a mountain landscape. Clear, bright green skin with robin's egg blue hair which faded to a glittering white. Upon seeing Bo, she rose. They embraced in a short hug before he spoke.

"Dotty, while I was out picking berries this morning, I found this lost troll. His entire village was eaten by bergens. I couldn't just leave him out there, I thought maybe your mother would know what to do."

A look of concern came across Dotty's face. She looked over at Creek. He placed his hands in a prayer position, gave a slight bow, and his most charming smile, "Any aid you can offer would be appreciated. I am your humble servant."

Dotty blushed, "I'll get the Queen," and she disappeared into the pod.

A moment later, a late middle-aged troll appeared. Creek could see where Dotty got her beauty. She was deep blue with freckles all over her giving the appearance of jewelry. Her hair was sparkling white and rose up into intricate curls like a crown.

"Hello. Bo tells me you are troll without a village." She didn't wait for Creek to answer. "I am Queen Lizzie. I see you've already met my daughter, Princess Peridot. Of course you can stay here, we are not savages. But you'll be on probation for the first few months. I can't have a mooch. If we find that your slacking or any hint these bergens followed you, you're out. What can you do?"

"I understand, Your Majesty, " Creek responded. "I am skilled in the art of yoga and meditation. In my old village, I ran a class in the mornings."

"Interesting. You can do that, but I also want to see you assisting with the other jobs that keep us fed, clothed and sheltered. I hear you interrupted Bo in his berry gathering. You can help him finish that task today. I will have one of the couriers send out invitations for your yoga class. Sunrise, sharp," the Queen turned to her daughter, "Peridot, you can make yourself useful and find out where Creek can stay for now."

Dotty nodded, "Yes, of course."

She accompanied Bo and Creek on the elevator..

"Your mother is a kind woman, Your Majesty," Creek said as they descended.

"You don’t have to call me Your Majesty. Everyone except mom calls me 'Dotty.'"

"By the way," Bo jumped in, "Creek can stay with me until his own pod can be built. I have plenty of room."

Creek looked over at Bo. The guy was nice enough, but he wasn't certain he wanted to live with a gloomy troll who sang sad songs all day.

Dotty's face lit up, "Oh, Bo! That is so kind of you. I was wracking my brain trying to think of where he could stay that wasn't just a blanket on the ground. Would that be okay with you, Creek?"

"Of course," Creek smiled.

"Wonderful! I'll go talk to Cotton about doing some redecorating. Hopefully, we can have it sorted out by the time you get back from berry picking."

The afternoon with Bo passed slowly. He seemed to know an infinite number of heartbreak songs. Creek tried singing a few happier melodies, but each time he did, Bo would stop singing and move over to another bush. Creek tried to engage him in conversation, just to distract him. This worked as Bo seemed to know all the gossip. Who was having a baby. Who cooked the best pies. When the new tree slide would finally be complete.

Finally, Creek asked about the person he'd been thinking about the whole time, "So, Dotty. She seems really nice."

"She sure is. She's going to make a fine queen one day. Not that Lizzie is thinking of retiring any time soon," he laughed.

"She reminds me of the princess from my old village. Beautiful, happy, outgoing," Creek let his voice lower. "In fact, I had thought that she and I would… Well, it doesn't matter now."

Bo frowned and put his hand on Creek's shoulder, "Losing somebody you love isn't easy." And he embraced Creek in a hug.

"Thank you," Creek said. The pair went back to picking berries in silence for another 10 minutes. Creek had hoped Bo would tell him more about Dotty, so he tried again, "So, how does succession work here? Does Lizzie have a co-ruler? Will Dotty become queen one day?"

"It passes from parent to child, like most places. Lizzie has a husband, Prince Olive, but that's just a title - he's not involved in the ruling. Although sometimes he thinks he is. You'll probably see him around at some point. Loud fellow. Don't give mind if he teases you, he's just like that. He doesn't mean anything by it."

"That's an unusual name. Is he from this village?"

"He was born in a village about six months travel South of here. I'm not clear on the details, but I think his father was an exiled king who took refuge here. I was just knee-high to a beetle when that happened, though."

"Does that mean royals can only marry other royals here?"

"No, Lizzie and Olive just hit it off," Bo gave Creek a suspecting look and then went back to singing another joyless ballad.  Creek shrugged and helped him finish picking.


	3. Yoga Class

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Creek settles in to his new pad and starts teaching Yoga. His plans to move in on Dotty are complicated by the fact she has a boyfriend. He also learns why Bo is always so glum. Not that Creek cares about that.

That evening Bo brought Creek back to his home, which turned out to be one of the mushrooms near the stream. The main room reflected Bo's bachelor status: rough-hewn furniture, a nutshell bed, a tiny kitchen. Someone had put up a faded photograph Creek guessed was Bo as a child with his parents, but the walls were otherwise bare. Although he noticed there were darker spots as if other portraits once hung there. He didn't see a bed for himself, but then he heard Dotty's voice, "Oh good, you're back! Cotton and I were just finishing up."

Creek spotted a small spiral staircase in the corner. He climbed up and found Dotty with a blue and yellow troll dressed in a striking white vest and pants. The mushroom walls sloped in here, making the standable space smaller than the main floor, but it was still a decent size. Unlike the drab, practical space below, this place was a riot of whimsy. Billowing fabrics swung from the ceiling, bright rugs and cushions littered the floor, and the walls burst with sunrise colors. A lace hammock hung in the center and a blue glass table sat in a corner.

"Wow, this is amazing. How did you have time to do this?" Creek asked.

"Most of this stuff was already here, we just cleaned it up a bit. Moved a lot of Bo's storage chests to the basement for him. The hammock is new, though. Nice to meet you by the way, I'm Cotton," the blue troll said and hugged Creek.

Creek returned the hug, "Namaste, brother. The kindness I've experienced here is refreshing."

After showing him around, Dotty and Cotton left, promising on their way out to come to Creek's yoga class in the morning. Bo went downstairs to cook dinner and left Creek to settle in. Creek looked at his room. Not bad. Maybe living with Bo wouldn't be so bad for a couple of months. He idly wondered why Bo had such a beautiful, unused room, but decided against asking him. He couldn't deal with whatever mopey story it involved. Likely it was related to why his glitter had faded and he sang only depressing songs. Instead, Creek sat down on one of the cushions to meditate on his plans for tomorrow.

A couple hours before sunrise the next morning, he scouted out a location for his yoga class. The banks along the stream turned out to be perfect, and there was even a small mushroom he could stand on to teach from. He spent some time finding flower petals to use as mats. He picked out an especially large, soft petal for Dotty and placed it right by his mushroom. As an afterthought, he placed two similar petals next to it for Olive and Lizzie; he didn't want to be too obvious. About ten minutes before the sunrise, the trolls began to arrive. Creek greeted each one with a hug and helped them get into a lotus position while they waited. Finally, only a few minutes before sunrise, Dotty arrived dressed in a loose shirt and pants; she looked the picture of relaxation and happiness. His heart skipped a beat.

He ran over to greet her,  "I have reserved a special spot for you, right up here," he said as he took her hand.

"That is so kind of you, but I promised I'd sit next to Onni*," and Dotty moved aside so that an ice blue troll with blond hair could step up.

"Nice to meet you, chap," he said as he gave Creek a hug which almost suffocated him.

Creek stared for split second before remembering himself. He smiled broadly and gave a slight bow, "Namaste, Onni. By happy chance, the petals I had picked out for the royal family are large enough to accommodate two in a pinch."

At the word 'pinch,' Bo, who had been sitting nearby, let out a small sob, then got up and left without saying goodbye.

"What was that about?" Creek stared as Bo blubbered away.

"Don't mind him, old boy. His girl left him for another troll a few months ago. He hasn't taken it well. Just try to avoid saying the word 'pinch' in the future. That's her name," Onni informed him. "Now, let's see about these extra-large petals you have for us."

Once they were settled in, Creek climbed on top his mushroom and meditated while the straggles came in. At sunrise, he began with some light breathing exercises then moved on to some simple poses. The whole time, he tried to catch Dotty's eye, but she was too focused on the exercise. Onni seemed too focused on Dotty. Creek decided it was time to do an intermediate pose and stepped down from his mushroom to give some hands on help. He adjusted a couple of trolls' bodies before trying to help Dotty. Again, he couldn't be too obvious. Plus, he was here to teach Yoga, which these trolls sorely needed. Their auras gave off a lot of stress which would fade a troll if allowed to fester.

"You want to point your toes just a little more forward, and turn  your hips just a bit more. I know it's a little awkward at first," he said as he inspected Dotty's pose.

She kept her face straight ahead, avoiding his eyes, "Like this?"

"Almost, here let me help you," and Creek placed his hands on her hips and gently pushed. Dotty tensed slightly as he did so, probably because Onni was so close. But it wasn't like Creek was doing anything he hadn't done with the other students. Perhaps Onni was the overly jealous type. Poor Dotty, stuck with such a bore. "There, you go," and he released his hands.

Shortly thereafter, Creek ended the class with a savasana pose and meditation. So many trolls came up to him afterwards to ask questions or thank him that he didn't see Dotty leave. He wanted to go find her, but Cotton came up and said he could do with some help shearing the caterpillars. Creek thought of refusing, but then remembered that he'd probably end up helping Bo collect berries again if he didn't agree.

The job turned out to be fairly exhausting as the caterpillars kept moving, but at least Cotton and the other shearers sang upbeat songs. Creek collapsed on Bo's sofa as soon as soon as he came through the door. Bo chuckled and handed him a plate of berry pancakes, which he inhaled.

"Not use to working this hard? Didn't living in the wilderness for months harden you up any?" Bo asked.

"Not in the same way. I could go at my own pace. Although I never had any pancakes out there. Just berries and leaves." Creek considered apologizing to Bo for accidentally upsetting him that morning, but then decided against it. He didn't want to make Bo cry again, and he seemed to have forgiven him anyway. It's not like Creek could have known that the word "pinch" was off-limits.

Over the next few weeks, Creek settled into his new life. Yoga in the morning. Work until the evening. Dinner with Bo. Fall into bed. The only chance he had to see Dotty was in the morning, and she was always with Onni. But then, just as the first leaves began to fall, Creek got an invitation. A simple, elegant white card with black script. So different from the felt cards Poppy made. 

_Princess Peridot wishes the pleasure of your company this Saturday at 8:00 o'clock in the evening at the Pine to celebrate Queen Lizzie and Prince Olive's 30th Wedding Anniversary._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Onni means "happiness" or "luck" in Finnish. The resemblance to the Japanese word for demon (Oni) is purely coincidental.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed this chapter. Constructive feedback welcome. Tune in next time to find out if Creek is able to worm his way into Dotty's affections.


End file.
